


show me you're sorry

by troubleseeker



Series: SPN kink bingo [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Cock sleeve, Dom Dean Winchester, Dom/sub, Edgeplay, Flogging, Light Bondage, M/M, Spanking, Sub Sam Winchester, mentions of oral sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22893775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubleseeker/pseuds/troubleseeker
Summary: Dean likes to get creative with his punishments.“C’mon De.” Sam moans, trying to lift his head high enough to throw puppy dog eyes towards his brother. “Said I was sorry.”Dean’s hand shoves him right back down, mouth full of motel pillow as he whimpers. “And what did I say?”“Not sorry enough.”---Sam has been a very bad boy (how hare he have eyes for anyone but Dean!) and needs to be punished. Light bondage with dom Dean taking Sammy nice and deep.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: SPN kink bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645564
Comments: 8
Kudos: 118
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo 2020





	show me you're sorry

**Author's Note:**

> My first toedip into the kink bingo!

Dean likes to get creative with his punishments.

“C’mon De.” Sam moans, trying to lift his head high enough to throw puppy dog eyes towards his brother. “Said I was sorry.”

Dean’s hand shoves him right back down, mouth full of motel pillow as he whimpers. “And what did I say?”

“Not sorry enough.” Sam parrots back obediently, rolling his back and wrists. Not to get out, no, he’d never  _ actually _ try to run away from what Dean gave him, just to feel how securely he was spread-eagled.

“That’s right. Now, hips up. Lift.”

Sam uses the little bit of slack he has on his legs to shuffle his knees up the mattress and arch his back to create a space under his pelvis like Dean wants. It’s not an easy position to hold, but it puts his ass on display, so Sam fully expects the palm of a hand or a flogger.

Dean’s fingers, slick with lube, curling delightfully around his dick isn’t at all what he thought was coming. 

“De-” He moans, straining his back even more to be able to groan into the open air instead of the pillow. “Oh-fuck.”

“Do I need to tell you you’re not allowed to come?”

“Nuh- no.” He gasps. He’s been bad, he’s being punished- he’s not going to get to come till Dean’s satisfied he truly  _ is _ sorry.

“Good.” Dean grins, teeth no doubt set in a manic grin. He loves putting Sam in his place; it’s half the reason Sam can’t stop himself from staring at other men and flirting with the right ones.

“Fuck.” Sam gasps again. Dean knows exactly how to make this hard on him; putty in Dean’s expert fingers. “ _ Fuck _ .”

“How long has it been?” Dean asks, and he doesn’t need to go into detail. Sam knows what he means.

“Five days.” Sam whines, toes slipping on overwashed cotton. “Oh-Please.”

“Should have thought about that before you went bitch in heat.” Dean’s second hand cradles Sam’s balls; too gentle. “He didn’t even have that nice an ass.”

“He- ah-had a big dick.” Sam tells Dean, knowing full well he’s being a mouthy brat but unable to help himself. He moans when Dean gives him exactly what he was angling for, a nice firm squeeze to the nuts that turns to perfect agony.

“Brat.” Dean sounds almost fond, hanging on to his dom persona as he squeezes.

“Mhmm.” Sam humms, voice rising and cracking in pleasure and pain. “Your brat.”

“Mine.” Dean agrees, ball hand tightening before retreating entirely; leaving Sam’s junk swinging loose in the cool air. 

He doesn’t need to suffer the breeze very long. Sam gasps for breath, hips stuttering forward into the cocksleeve’s tight slick channel instinctually. He knows he’s not allowed to come, but Dean hasn't told him not to move.

“Greedy.” Dean tells him. As if he wasn’t the one who’d nurtured that greed and fanned its flames. “Hold still.”

Sam whines, obedient to a fault but by God he wants to move. He want to fuck the toy till he gets permission to come. He wants- he wants- he wants- “Ah!” So focussed on his own desire, he’d forgotten about how open and inviting his ass was. 

“That’s one.” Dean grins, tickling the flogger’s many tails across Sam’s lower back. He hadn’t hit Sam very hard, more a warning about what was about to happen than a true first strike. “Ready for two?”

“Yeah- yeah- Fuck!”

“Back in position. Three.”

Sam’s hips fuck forward with every strike, he can’t stop his body from reacting. And every time, Dean demands his return to position; pulling his aching dick back from the depths of the toy. He’s not moving much more than an inch one way or the other- but - It’s torture.

“Please- please I’m sorry.” Sam’s lips are wet with tears; pain and frustration mixing expertly with lust. “Won’t do it again.”

“And somehow-” Dean comments, fingers cool against the red heat of Sam’s beaten ass. “I don’t believe you. Thirty.”

Sam’s balls are drawn tight, so close to coming it’s not even funny. 

“I swear.”

“Not good enough. Thirty-one.”

Sam knows what he’s got to do; what Dean expects from him, but the allure of lying here as Dean toys with him is tantalizing. Every last shred of Dean’s attention is on him right now. No one else. Just Sam. Only Sam. 

Still, he  _ wants _ to be good for his brother.

“Promise.” He gasps. “Won’t ever look at anyone else. Please.”

“I don’t know. You seemed awfully happy to follow that big dick to the back room. Thirty-two.”

“Fuck- he means nothing. Don’t want him. Ah! Just want you, Dean. Please. Want you.”

“Are you sure I’m big enough?” Dean stops counting, flogger falling with expert precision and timing as Sam begs for his own special kind of mercy.

“Yes! Yes- oh fuck- please yes. Don’t need anyone else.”

“Then why did you follow him?”

“Please- Dean! Fuck- ohmygod.”

“Tell me. Tell me why my whore of a brother followed a total stranger into the back room of a bar.”

“Cause I’m a whore.” He repeats. Too far down and needy to care what he’s admitting to. Hips hips arch back eagerly expecting the next hit.

“On your knees for some random stranger.”

“Didn’t want him.” Sam confesses. “Wanted you. Please, want you.”

“Such a needy boy. Tell me, why should I give you what you want?”

“Please, I’ll be good.” Sam promises, craning his neck once again. He wants to see Dean. Wants to show just how sorry he is. 

“Really now?”

“Ye- yes. So good, De. So good. Promise! Please.”

“What do you want?”

“You. Fuck-want you.”

“How? Beg for it.”

“Please, Dean-sir. Please fuck me. Fuck me- please. Need your dick, sir, please- Dean Please.”

“You want my dick that bad?”

“Yes!” Sam tries to arch his back, tries to hold still, tries to be perfect for Dean even though his entire body wants to do nothing more than rut till he finds completion. “Fuck please, please fuck me.”

“Where do you want it?” Dean’s toying with him, he knows Sam’s answers.

“Anywhere. Just you! Please, sir need you. Please-inside me-please-”

“Want me to fuck your face?”

Sam moans, eager and ye-yes-yes-yes. His mouth falls open instinctually and wet and desperate.

“Or do you want me in your ass? Tight little hole for me?”

Sam shakes, unable to decide. He just wants and needs. His desperation turns sour for half a second, but Dean is there to soothe him immediately.

“No need for you to decide.” He shushes, fingers in Sam’s hair and stroking down his back. “It’s about what I want, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Sam agrees, relaxing into the touches. He’s not even trying to fuck into the sleeve anymore. 

“So pretty when you give up.” Dean croons, hands dragging down to grip Sam’s hips. It’s a clue to what will come next. “So perfect for me.”

Sam makes a noise, agreeable putty with a well tanned ass.

“You didn’t want that dude’s dick, did you?”

“Nuh.” Sam sighs, head shaking just a bit.

“Wanted to make me jealous, didn’t you?”

“S’rry.”

“It’s ok. You’ve got me now. Just you and me.” Dean’s hands smooth ever lower, cupping striped flesh and relishing Sam’s pained whimper. “Just like you wanted.”

“Ye.”

Two tugs release Sam’s legs, but he doesn’t move. Perfectly still just like Dean had commanded. 

“Show me that ass, Sammy. C’mon up.”

Eyes glazed and barely open, Sam’s knees manage to walk forward enough to create a space for Dean to kneel.

“Good boy.” Dean praises, spreading glowing cheeks wide. “Let’s get you slick and ready for me.”

“M’ready already.” Sam tries, so ready to get on with it he’d rather be taken now than later. He gets a swift smack for his attempt.

“Not for you to decide.” Dean chides, slick fingers returning to Sam’s eager hole with a calmness Sam can’t understand. 

“Sorry.” Sam slurs, hands tugging on their bonds restlessly. “M’sorry De. Pleas-”

“Shhhhhhh.” Dean hushes, sliding two fingers inside of Sam’s hole. “Just wait a bit for me. You can do that, can’t you?”

Sam nods, body flopping back into submission.

“Almost done anyway. You’re so hungry for me. So loose. Just for me.”

Sam keeps noddin, drooling into the sheets as he waits. He’d agree to anything Dean tells him right now. He’s lucky Dean isn’t the kind of person to take advantage like that too often.

“There we go.” Dean croons. “Opened right up for me.”

Dean manhandles into the position he wants him in, and Sam whimpers when his dick is forced nice and deep inside the sleeve once again. Dean doesn’t give him any time to think about his new predicament, sliding home in one smooth glide.

He stays there, pushed deep and flush for a few breaths - acclimatizing to Sam’s welcoming body - before pulling back and slamming right back in. 

Sam’s too tired out to do much more than let his body be used, but the push and pull of Dean’s hips and dick make damn sure his own denied orgasm never goes away. It doesn’t take long before he’s begging again. Not with words, but with hitched whines and desperate little cries for mercy.

“Little longer.” Dean grunts, hands vice tight on Sam’s hips as he takes his pleasure. “Wait for me.”

Time slides away from him, nothing but now and need and want and please. What even is the future?

“Got a choice for you.” Dean tells Sam, leaning over him to whisper his devilish conundrum right into his brother’s ear as he never stops fucking him. “If you can wait till I come inside of you, I’ll suck you off.”

Sam groans, a needy gurgle that means he’s right on the edge of shooting just at the idea. He’s a sucker for Dean’s lips.

“Or you can come now, of course.”

Sam’s eyes roll back, words so far from his mind as he’s fucked deeper and deeper into subspace. Any air that leaves his mouth is a plea for mercy, for direction, for permission, but he’s been given all he’s going to get.

He can come now, or he can wait and get rewarded for it. 

Clinging to the thought of Dean’s throat, Sam holds on. Desperate and overwhelmed but he’d rather have Dean’s mouth that the unfeeling sleeve. 

When Dean’s thrusts turn erratic, Sam knows he can do it. He takes all Dean gives him and clings to his decision like a drowning man. 

“Roll over.” Dean commands, and Sam finds his ass empty and leaking and his wrists untied when he blindly obeys.

“Such a good boy for me.” Dean’s between his legs instantly, and Sam stares down his chest blearily; his dick is so red it looks painful. “Good boys get rewarded.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you want to come yell at me on [tumblr](http://ryugarika.tumblr.com/) ... feel free to, I can take it.
> 
> Comments feed me!


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